reveries of sun-drenched prairies;
windswept under cottony clouds
golden-yellow in summery indolence

If there is one thing I have learned on my travels,
it is that
the currency of eternity is the fingerprints you leave on the fabric.

The slow imprint of a million miles walked. Set free your timid heart and
leave behind an outline of an essence.

An amorphous mold that denies the shape of the world around it.
Be a surprise.
Let them label you a miracle or a sickness.

In time they will come to realize
the edge of the world is a place to dance.
Reach forward, and gift sound to silence.

Oh ‘blithe spirit’, you wing through space.
In the far firmament you are just a speck to trace.
As you steer your way through the clouds high,
I see your floating shape against the sky

Lowering your pinions down to alight the ground
I hear your warbled words closer all around
How your eyes spot the rain water puddle
And come hopping to have a dip in the muddle

On this sunny September afternoon
You are going to have a cool bath soon
You flap your wings in quick succession up and down
Spattering little muddy showers from your gown

You are so shy that you bathe with all clothing on
That it takes time for you to feel dry and clean
So once your bath is over, you perch on a tree
Ruffling your feathers until they are moisture free

After preening every little feather to dry
Refreshed and enlivened, off you fly,
Singing melodious tunes all your way
And drowning the land with your sweet lay!

--------- Valsa George